


The Songs We Sang

by mateo (orphan_account)



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: M/M, Possible Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 12:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/mateo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your song was made just for me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Songs We Sang

In the beginning, he was alone, in the dark abyss, trapped inside his own mind.

Her poisonous words left him hanging, his lips mouthing whatever she said, with a broken smile on his face.

He had no one, and nobody wanted him, clearly, even her. 

He was only a broken toy, someone to bully and tear apart when she was bored.

Then one day, she disappeared, leaving him even more alone, by himself. 

He retreated even more into his shell until he could not anymore.

When he met him, a boy with brown hair, he sang out the horrifying tune, the same tune that she taught him to sing. 

The other boy decided to keep his distance from him, far away from the too-pale boy.

Distraught, the white boy continued to sing the same broken song, his voice cracking as he sang louder and louder, with tears in his eyes.

Then one day, he stopped singing. 

Silence filled the air.

The other boy came to investigate, to see what made him stop.

He was stunned when the broken boy refused to speak, not a single word, only letting out a soft croak, stating his refusal to sing anymore.

The brown-haired boy then cradled him in his arms, his white curls threading through his fingers, and begun to sing, to teach him the beautiful melodies that he felt that he should learn.

Even though he thought the tune that the too-thin boy sang earlier then was horrid, he knew the boy needed something more, something better.

He sang songs that soothed his darkened soul, songs that picked up his heart and mended the cracks in it, with notes spun from threads of gold.

The broken boy was broken no more, his entire being given new meaning by the brown-haired boy.

And from that day on, they sang together, their voices melding together like minuscule knots of persian carpets, like intricate patterns that graced their world.


End file.
